


smoke and guns

by pxlybius



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: "Enemies" to lovers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Flashbacks, Gay Panic, I have questionable taste in men, Letters, M/M, Villains, mutual pining IF YOU SQUINT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30143214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxlybius/pseuds/pxlybius
Summary: locke finds some letters in setzer’s desk that give insight into a mysterious figure.
Relationships: Kefka Palazzo/Original Character(s), Kefka Palazzo/Original Male Character, Setzer Gabbiani & Original Character(s), Setzer Gabbiani & Original Male Character





	smoke and guns

Even in a world ruled by technology, where magic is a precious resource utilized by few, the place Locke was in was a technological marvel. _The Blackjack_ , the world’s only airship. This is where Locke Cole was, having formed a tentative allyship with its pilot, an enigmatic thrill-seeking gambler named Setzer. He had already been here a few times before, but something told him this might be the last time for a while, so he decided to look around a bit, turn some stones that had previously been left unturned, as it were. Plus, he seemed to keep finding useful items stowed away in nooks, and crannies of any place he visited, so, why not here?

The self-proclaimed “treasure hunter,” found himself in Setzer Gabbiani’s private quarters soon enough. Spotting his personal desk as a possible hotspot for a few free potions. Rifling through a few of the drawers proved fruitless in that department. Suddenly, though, a stack of letters caught his attention.

They were neatly tucked away in the back of the bottom drawer. The enigmatic gambler cared about their contents, but didn’t want anyone else to see them. However, what caught his attention was not how they were stored, it was the emblem emblazoned in the corner of each piece of paper. Making it clear that these were sent from a member of the Gestahlian military. Now, why would someone like Setzer keep secret letters from someone like that? Is that what Locke was wondering, especially considering that he offered to give him and his fellow returners? Including Celes, a general who had recently deserted the Gestahlian Empire after realizing what they were doing was wrong? A ride to the capital of the Empire, Vector.

‘ _It’s to ensure that we’re in safe hands_ ’, he told himself as he tore into this stranger’s private property.

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

**Dear Setzer,**

**I hope this letter finds you well, or rather, finds you at all. That airship of yours is so fast, I worry a little bit that my poor carrier pigeon won’t be able to keep up, and could get caught in one of those propellers! Anyway, I wanted to thank you for giving me a ride last week. I worried that you might be one of those rebels- I’m pretty sure they call themselves, “The Returners”. I was pleased to know you’re pretty neutral.**

**Anyway, you told me you were crushing on that famous opera singer...what was her name...Maria, right? Sorry, I was a little out of it when we were chatting. Regardless, if you ever wanted to arrange a** **_daring escape,_ ** **from a** **_dreaded assassin_ ** **, to impress her, you have my address. Actually, the more I think about it, that would be pretty fun! It would certainly be a breath of fresh air from slitting throats, and poisoning drinks of politicians, (who all start to look the same after a while…) I could even dress up! Wear a mask or something...but, of course, it’s only a crush, so, I won’t push you.**

**I’m sorry if this letter’s kind of brief, I’m just about to head out on a new job. Well, actually, it’s technically a demotion. It turns out that fleeing the scene of a failed assassination in an ally’s airship is** **_not_ ** **proper protocol, can you believe that? It’s no fault of yours of course, I wouldn’t blame you. You were just in the right place at the right time...or I guess wrong place at the right time, huh?**

**Anyway, apparently in addition to my normal assignment, I’m now working alongside someone, which is certainly a change of pace. Unfortunately, it’s General** **_Kefka Palazzo_ ** **I’m working for. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about him, but to keep things brief, he’s supposedly an absolute** **_nightmare_ ** **to be around, at least since that whole “magic infusion” incident...oh wait, I probably shouldn’t mention that. Classified information, and all. He’s merciless, and cruel, with a wickedly dark sense of humor. His sense of style is said to be rather...eclectic as well. Hopefully this reassignment is brief, I much prefer working alone. But, I guess you would understand that better than anyone, eh Setzer?**

**Oh goodness look at the time. I mean, you can’t, because this is a letter, but I have to get going soon. I hope to hear back from you soon!**

**Cordially,**

**Blair Bloodstorm**

**P.S. If you come across any cute animals on your travels, send me a picture! I’ve always had a soft spot for cute, and fluffy things ^-^**

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

Wait wait wait.

Blair Bloodstorm was writing to Setzer? Blair, as in the cold, and dangerous Gestahlian assassin? The one that just tried to kill Celes? There was no date on the letter, but judging by its content it had been sent a while ago. As far as he was aware, Blair was pretty much always at Kefka’s side, carrying out his/orders without question. So the fact that there was a time when that _wasn’t_ the case certainly threw him for a loop.

Locke wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this. It was as if he had just stumbled upon some kind of villain origin story. He could confront Setzer and/or Celes about this, certainly, but he wanted to make sure that he read through everything first, to get a full scope of the situation. At least, that’s what he reasoned to himself as he stowed the bundle of stationery back in its original place quickly as he heard someone approaching. Hearing them leave, he opened up the drawer and began reading the second letter in the stack.

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

**Dear Setzer,**

**I first want to thank you for the picture of those raccoons! I know those guys can be a huge pain in the butt, but they’re so cute and fluffy I just wanna snuggle them! Oh...that’s probably kind of an unbecoming thing of a high-ranking assassin who dresses in all black to say, but hey, as long as you don’t tell any Imperial soldiers you come across that I said that, it should be fine. I’ve got a reputation of a stone-cold edgy demeanor to keep up, you know. Honestly, I’m just glad I’m known for anything.**

**These last few months working for Kefka have been a whirlwind, to say the least. It’s part of why it took me so long to reply, actually. Whatever you’ve heard about him, he’s 10 times that. 10 times more sadistic, 10 times more idiosyncratic, 10 times more** **_merciless_ ** **. Needless to say, he’s… an intense guy to be around.**

**Often with these military guys (I don’t** **_really_ ** **consider myself in that category, since I usually work alone and I don’t have an official rank or anything, I’m technically a “mercenary” I think? I’m not sure) they tend to have this seriousness to them, even off-duty. A kind of solemn reverence for the work they’re doing, if that makes sense. A moral high ground that makes them not like people like who hide in the shadows to achieve their goals. Kefka...does not have that. I don’t think this guy could even** **_spell_ ** **solemn. He is chaos and destruction to the nth degree. He forgoes a military uniform altogether, dressed from head to toe in clashing mismatched colors and patterns. Also, a full face of what can only be described as** **_clown makeup_ ** **every day. Honestly I’d forget he was a General if he wasn’t so power-obsessed.**

**In the last campaign I accompanied him on in Albrook, I got a glimpse into how dangerous he really is. He was blasting into buildings with his magic with wild abandon, including ones full of civilians, laughing the whole time. It was...quite a sight.**

**Despite how objectively messed up that might be, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. In fact, this is embarrassing to admit, but he has been occupying my mind much more than he should. I think he knows this, too. He keeps** **_insisting_ ** **that I stay by his side as much as possible, much to my chagrin.**

**Speaking of Albrook, though, I’m actually from there. Like, I grew up there for most of my life. I mean, I guess I kind of forget sometimes because it’s been so long, and I was so different, it’s like remembering someone else’s life sometimes…**

**I spent most of my childhood with my mom, my dad was always busy doing god-knows-what as an “entrepreneur”, whatever that means. Not that that really matters, he was a pain to be around when he was. But, something that was always painfully obvious in my life, was that I was never the first choice. I was definitely not my mom’s favorite, and my classmates in school basically forgot I existed unless they needed someone to make fun of. There was always something, someone better, more accomplished, more interesting. I faded into the background.**

**So, I made a career out of being hard to notice, of fading into the background. Turns out it’s a pretty useful trait when you have to infiltrate fancy dinner parties or bedrooms at night and slip away into the shadows. But, I never really wanted to do it. It’s not like I have any kind of passion for contract killing, or something. I guess, I just always thought I was meant for something more, you know?**

**Well, he’s calling me again. Who knows for what reason. He seems to enjoy flirting with me just to watch my reaction, because even though I can stay stone cold and not even flinch with projectiles being fired straight towards me, my entire delicately cultivated persona crumbles when he makes an off-hand comment about me looking cute, unfortunately.**

**Hoping this is over soon,**

**Blair Bloodstorm**

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

‘ _This really is like reading a villain origin story, isn’t it? Backstory exposition and everything,_ ’ Locke thought as he checked over his shoulder, listening through all the whirring and humming of the airships’ mechanisms for any approaching footsteps. Hearing nothing, he continued to the next letter. Before he did, he tried to do the math on _when_ exactly these letters had been sent. So far, based on the attack on Albrook he mentioned in the last one, these letters had to be almost a year old. 

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

**Dear Setzer,**

**Last night was…. certainly a night. Kefka insisted on doing my makeup, for some reason. Something about “trying out a new look on someone else”...? I don’t know, it was late and I was dragged out of bed before I could really protest. I was expecting him to sit me down in front of the mirror in his quarters with lights around it, (have I mentioned this guy’s majorly obsessed with himself? Another reason, I guess, to not let this crush get out of control, An ego boost by someone else finding him attractive is probably the last thing he needs.) but you can’t really expect anything to go as expected if Kefka’s involved, I’ve learned. Whether it’s extreme acts of violence or late night makeovers, always expect the unexpected, I guess.**

**So that’s how I ended up lying on his bed as he straddled me, makeup palette in hand, painting delicate designs on my face, gently directing me.**

**You know, you’d expect me to say he did something horrible after this that made me want to cut all ties with him, but, actually, this was certainly a different side of him. Every touch from him was setting my every sense on fire, There was an unexpected softness to his actions, but every touch, every direction to tilt my face one way or close my eyes, only served to amplify the blush covering my face, not that you could see it through all the makeup.**

**For the first time, I really got to admire his features. He’s pretty striking, even without all the makeup. His eyes, they’re a particularly attractive shade of icy blue, I could stare into them for hours. He was uncharacteristically focused, and calm. And, before I could work up the courage to maybe make a move, he was done. I admired his handiwork in the mirror. I** ~~**really** ~~ **liked it. I looked...nice. The white makeup didn’t have much of a difference on my pale complexion, but the dark details, carefully placed, and the dark lipstick, complement my usual wardrobe of blacks and greys incredibly well.**

**In that moment, I realized he had no intention of doing this on himself. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to do my makeup, or, to go even further, to be that close and intimate with me. That’s probably silly though, he was most likely just messing with me, like he always does...right?**

**Maybe Hopeful,**

**Blair Bloodstorm**

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

**Dear Setzer,**

**I guess I should “thank you for your concern”, but really, there’s no need to worry. I’m fine. In fact, I’m doing better than I have in a long time, maybe ever.**

**Kefka...Kefka makes me happy. I don’t think I mind admitting it now. I’ve been alone, on my own, for so long, but with him, I don’t have to be alone. But of course, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.**

**We’re heading out to Narshe in the morning. Hopefully, I can hitch a ride on one of the Magitek Armours because, I know I’m gonna be suffering trekking through the desert in these dark clothes.**

**Oh yeah! I guess I should tell you that Kefka is, ~officially~ my boyfriend now. He got tired of the back-and-forth we seemed to have, I guess. And maybe, juuuust maybe, he needs me like I need him. Things are really good between us, I think. He’s hard to read sometimes, with how unpredictable his behavior can be. I mean just yesterday, he poisoned the water supply of a whole castle without batting an eye. We sat, and watched from the riverside as the inhabitants we could see dropped like flies. The one guy who** **_somehow_ ** **survived, went on some kind of vengeance spree, but, luckily, I chased him and a couple stray returners out.**

**I gotta send this letter pretty soon, since we have an early morning tomorrow. But, before I end it, I just have to let you know- this conflict, this war- it’s going to get a lot worse soon, for a lot of people. I trust you, you know? I’d hate for you to end up on the wrong side here. If you wanted to lend your services- I mean, having the World’s Only Airship would certainly make getting around a lot easier for** ~~**us** ~~ **the Empire- I think that you could keep yourself safe. You don’t have to take me up on that, of course, but just know the offer is out there. ^-^**

**Cordially,**

**Blair Bloodstorm**

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

“Not planning on stealing anything, are you Locke?”

Locke’s head snapped up at the mention of his name, looking over to the doorway to see Setzer leaning against it.

“S-stealing? Why would I steal anything?”

“Isn’t that your job? A thief? At least, that’s what I’ve heard. A shame you couldn’t steal yourself some better clothes though…” The gambler looked Locke up and down, as if to call to attention the treasure hunter’s worn garments.

“For the last time, I’m a _treasure hunter_!” Locke pouted a little, but soon noticed that Setzer’s gaze had come to rest on the letter in Locke’s hands.

“W-where did you find that?” Setzer’s usually smooth demeanor seemed to falter, a little nervousness playing across his features. Clearly someone else reading these letters struck a nerve with him.

“These letters were stowed in here. I was looking for any potions or something you might’ve left lying around, and I came across them. I’ve been reading them every time I’ve had to take a ride on this airship. So, care to explain?” Locke was clearly holding all the cards at this point, which is ironic considering the set of playing cards that Setzer utilized as a weapon. “You’re not planning on betraying us now, are you Setzer?”

“Of course not! The empire’s destruction has gone too far, that much I know. If we don’t do something, the world as we know it could be destroyed, all because of it.”

“Then why are you writing to Blair, of all people?”

“Most of those letters are from before all of this chaos really took a turn. Blair...he’s an old friend.” Setzer explained, seeming desperate to change the subject. He didn’t like being vulnerable, especially with someone like Locke. “Listen, I’ve been holding onto this last letter, but maybe you should take it. If I’m going to help you all face down the Emperor and his associates, I need to let go of the past. The person in those letters, he’s.... he’s not the Blair on that floating continent.” He retrieved a letter matching the same stationery as all of the others from a hidden pocket in his large overcoat, handing it over to Locke before turning to leave promptly.

“Setzer! Wait! I...I want to ask you something,” The gambler stopped in his tracks, turning back to the treasure hunter. “You say it’s not the same Blair...so what do you think changed? What made the Blair in these letters into the Blair we know now? Was it Kefka?” Setzer seemed to hesitate a little before answering, his eyes full of sadness.

“I...I don’t think Kefka was doing it on purpose, as much as you’d expect me to,” Setzer began, “He wouldn’t have any reason to manipulate someone like Blair. He had no special connections that he was utilizing or anything. It seems like...they really love each other,” He hesitates again. “You know, to do the things Blair has done, to turn your back on everyone out of nowhere, you would need some kind of motivation. Some kind of reason that drives you more than anything. For some people it’s losing something, for others it’s gaining something, like knowledge, hope, or even...even someone important to you. Blair never hungered for power, or recognition, even. He never had that motivation. But...I think his love for Kefka, is his drive. His devotion to that maniacal jester is what’s pushing him away from everyone else.” It seemed like Setzer had reached his threshold of emotional vulnerability for the day, as he promptly turned, and left, muttering to Locke, that the airship would be taking off to look for the Floating Continent soon.

Locke unfolded the last letter in his hands, noticing its startlingly short length, and began to read.

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

**Dear Setzer,**

**Consider this our last correspondence. What** **_exactly_ ** **is your end game goal giving free rides to returners? I thought I could trust you! I thought you were basically chaperoning them straight to our doorstep, but instead you let them sneak into our research facilities? Do you just not care anymore, or are you just too foolish to see the error of your ways? Because of your free ride, they ended up right in the middle of the Magitek Research facility. Their stupid antic for what they think is “right” is going to set us back so much! After all of that, what do you do? You give those pathetic jokes of rebels free rides around the world like it’s nothing!**

**I can’t believe you’d be so foolish as to side with the losing side of a battle. I really expected better of you, Setzer, after all of this time. But, you know, I don’t need someone like you anymore. This whole world is going to burn, and now, you’ll just be another casualty. I guess it’s to be expected, though. You have** **_no idea_ ** **the kind of power that** ~~**Kef** ~~ **the Empire wields, and you still think there’s a way to stop the inevitable.**

**Blair Bloodstorm**

⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙⬙

Locke stared at the paper, a little dumbfounded, as if staring at it would make new words appear. This...this was it? Certainly, this sounded much more like the Blair he was familiar with on the battlefield, and in hushed rumors in returner hideouts, and yet, there was something distinctly different about this letter compared to the others. It was as if a mask had been put back on, a curtain closing on both Blair and Setzer’s tentative friendship, and this intimate window into who Blair was.

He folded the letter back up and placed it with the others, before heading out to the main deck of the airship. He tried not to think too hard about all he had just read. After all, it didn’t matter the path that led Blair to where he was, who he was with, what he was doing, only that it _stopped_ now.


End file.
